


Maps

by TheonSugden



Category: Emmerdale
Genre: Come Eating, Comeplay, M/M, Mutual Masturbation, Scars, Spanking, mentions of self harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-09
Updated: 2015-04-09
Packaged: 2018-03-22 01:58:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3710611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheonSugden/pseuds/TheonSugden
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A restless night during Robert and Aaron's time alone at Home Farm leads to Robert exploring Aaron's scars, and encouraging Aaron to do the same.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Maps

Aaron knew it was a rite of passage to watch your boyfriend sleep, but even if he kidded himself long enough to think Robert was his boyfriend, he couldn’t do it. Even in the hotel, he hadn’t done it - he’d been too in awe of Robert. Now, he worried he’d see Robert sleeping peacefully, not a care in the world, and wonder what that said about him…what it said about Aaron for loving him so desperately.

He padded out of the expansive bedroom, navigating the dark hallway with surprising skill (years squatting in dank flats had its uses), flipping a light on before he made his way downstairs to the kitchen.

The beer was expensive in price but tasted the same as a home brew to his lips. He sipped slowly, not wanting to lose control, mostly wanting to feel the cool bottle in his hand.

He wandered around the living room, absentmindedly scratching his crotch through the thin black boxers. 

Seeing the family photos of Robert and the Whites with Robert wearing his best game show grin should have made him feel ashamed, or foolish, but he mostly wondered what type of person he was becoming that he felt nothing at all. 

He thought of the photo Paddy had on one of his corner tables of Zoe Tate and her kid, some snap from a few Christmases ago. Zoe’d owned Home Farm when he’d first come to see Chas. Every time she’d walk into the pub, half-a-dozen ghosts were right behind her - her dad and her brother and fuck knew who else. Her mere presence had always set Betty alight with one story or another.

He barely remembered her, but he remembered enough to know she’d never fit in with common folk. And he knew he’d never fit in with posh folk. 

He knew Robert never would either, and deep down he knew Robert knew… or he had to tell himself Robert knew, because otherwise they were something he couldn’t stomach being much longer.

His feet ached from the hard floors and the punishing runs. He knew he deserved the pain, needed it even, but he still propped up on the sofa, cradled the last of his drink as he flipped through the channels. 

He must have dozed off, somehow, because when he opened his eyes, the sun was starting to warm his bare legs. 

He sat up, rubbing his eyes, wondering what excuse to text to Chas before deciding he didn’t really give a toss.

He’d just put his phone back down on the coffee table where he’d left it the night before when he was greeted by a very naked, and very pouty, Robert.

“Why did you leave me?” he said, hands on hips. 

Aaron wondered if Robert realized just how needy he sounded, trying and failing to hide a smile at how good that made him feel.

“It’s not funny,” Robert continued.

It was, but Aaron wasn’t going to argue. He’d much rather enjoy the scenery while he could.

“Couldn’t sleep. Didn’t wanna wake you up.”

Not exactly a lie.

Robert’s quiet fume turned to barely concealed concern, the kind that always got Aaron’s back up.

“Is it because it’s my bed with…”

“No!” Aaron shouted, rubbing his temples. He didn’t want to hear her name. He hated hearing her name. “Maybe it should be, but it ain’t. Not everything has some big meaning.”

Robert didn’t seem to believe him, but he didn’t press, briefly tugging on himself before sitting next to Aaron.

“Don’t haveta fluff on my account…” Aaron smirked before Robert grabbed the back of his head and kissed him deep, morning breath and all. 

Aaron grunted when Robert’s hand slid down his white tee-shirt, cotton slick against his pecs and stomach from the early morning sun.

“You’re wearing too many clothes,” he insisted, like it was a royal command.

Aaron barely had time to lift his arms before the undergarment sailed across the room.

“I love your body,” Robert whispered in his ear, tongue heavy and thick. 

Aaron slipped his thumb and forefinger against Robert’s foreskin, squeezing enough to wring a sharp moan out of him before beginning a slow, steady wank.

Robert bit at his neck and chest, his long fingers and trim nails playing a melody on the scars on Aaron’s stomach.

“Do you want me to stop?” Robert asked, drawled out, yet serious, as Aaron gasped at the contact.

“I…”

Until Robert, Aaron had either left his top on with most men, or, when he was with somebody who mattered, like Ed, said nothing as Ed felt confused or guilty every time he went near the self-harm marks.

Robert had never been shy about them, from the first time he’d stripped Aaron bare in Diane’s backroom. He’d shamed Aaron for them, but he’d also kissed them, bit at them, ran fast and slow hands up, down and across them to make Aaron shudder.

Until today, what he’d never done was ask about them.

“I need you to tell me if it’s OK,” Robert said, gently moving Aaron’s grip from his hard cock to get his full concentration.

“I…” he tried to think, even as Robert began to kiss his way down his chest.

“Robert, why are ya…” he managed to get out before coherent speech was shut down by Robert’s tongue dipping in his navel, the skin stretched with a tug from Robert’s teeth.

Robert looked up at him, gleaming like the sun streaking through the window.

“I know why you have these, and I know what they remind you of,” he said, barely above a whisper, eyes fixed on Aaron as he nuzzled his cheek against the firm flesh, “but I want to give you more memories. I want to…I want to make them my own.”

Tears filled Aaron’s eyes as he fully processed what Robert was saying. Robert wanted every last part of Aaron, like tendrils that never stopped digging. Selfish bastard, and proud of it. 

Aaron hadn’t carved into himself for any reason but what he did to Jackson, how he’d let him down, crippled him, killed him. Making them anything else was selfish, and obscene, and…

“Do it. Just…fuck, do it.”

He knew what a bad person he was to say yes, but Robert was a god, his god, with all the power in the world to heal or to hurt. He needed this and he couldn’t say otherwise.

He closed his eyes as he felt Robert’s breath against his waist, soft breaths, puffs against his skin that felt like relief, gratitude.

“Open your eyes.”

Aaron knew he shouldn’t, knew he couldn’t stop himself.

“I want you to see this the next time you look in the mirror…the next time you think about…about cutting yourself,” Robert said, commanding, but with vulnerable edges. 

Aaron wanted to tell him it wasn’t that easy, he didn’t get it, but he just swallowed, kept staring down as Robert planted kisses across the marriage between scarred and smooth skin.

“I love you,” he muttered with each kiss, shaky at the start, but stronger each time.

Aaron wanted to believe him, mouthing the words to himself as Robert kissed his knees, nudging him to raise up while his boxers were slid around his ankles.

“I love you because of these, not in spite of them…” he said, reverently, one hand pressed against the scars while the other gently grasped Aaron’s wrist, placed his hand onto his stomach. “They make you who you are. The man I love.”

His hand on top of Aaron’s, he led Aaron in a hesitant caress of the marked flesh, exploring in a way Aaron never had before.

“I want you to masturbate and spread your come all over your stomach, Aaron.”

Aaron shook his head, but Robert kissed him again, soft, lips lingering for a moment before they moved to his nose and forehead.

“I won’t make you…I can’t and I wouldn’t if I could…I’ll just ask. For both of us.”

Aaron wanted to laugh at the crass manipulation, but he felt his thick cock heavy against his thigh. It jumped when he ran a tentative finger across the underside.

“You know what you need,” Robert said, still and strong, before he stepped back, taking himself in hand, pink-purple head revealed with the sheath now tight against him.

Aaron knew he could get off just watching Robert, even just the sounds of Robert grunting and groaning at the brutal precision of his own palm, but he looked down at his own body instead.

He licked the sweat and pre-come from his palm, placing the hand flat against him again, letting his fingers explore the scars, the map of regrets and mistakes and self-loathing, a puzzle only he could put together. 

He shivered at the touch, licking and biting his lip as his free hand wrapped around his shaft.

As he beat himself off, he let himself look at Robert for just a moment, a wave shuddering through him at the feel of Robert’s eyes steeled on him, of Robert’s red, throbbing penis sputtering in his hand at what Aaron was doing to himself.

He could still taste himself, still wanted Robert to taste him again. He imagined Robert licking the load off his stomach, sharing his seed with him. 

“I-Is this what you want?” he asked, voice broken into pieces, lip raw, White sofa splattered with milky white droplets, more and more with each second.

“Is it what  _you_  want?” Robert said, the voice of sex and sureness, challenging Aaron to the end.

Aaron nodded, throwing his head back, a final tug on his balls as he let go. He heard himself, or someone who used to be him, screaming, crying out with wave after wave in his hand, on his thighs and chest.

Eyes blind from fatigue and the blistering sun, he only half-noticed Robert towering over him, deep groans echoing through the living room as he added his own load to Aaron’s. 

Only when he looked down, tears mixed with the semen and sweat, did he see Robert, did he feel his tongue on his balls and spent shaft as the big hands painted the canvas of come across his scars.

“Wanna taste,” he mumbled as a smirking Robert moved up to share the prize, 

They kissed even after the taste was gone, Robert leaning over Aaron until his back began to ache, Aaron letting Robert seep in until his lips began to numb.

Robert clasped Aaron’s hand, pulling him up for another embrace, letting Aaron’s head rest on his shoulder.

“I wanted to show you the grounds…gave Sam the day off…”

Aaron buried his face further into the crook of Robert’s neck. The idea of the lord of the manor treating him as an honored guest - another lie, another fantasy Aaron could cling to until they got the call from Chrissie or Lawrence. Silly or not, Aaron liked it. 

“Not sure we’re dressed. Left me jodhpurs back in France.”

Robert laughed.

“I’d like to see you in a pair.”

Aaron tried to laugh back, but it translated to a yawn somewhere along the way.

“Think I’m gonna go back to bed,” he said, trying not to notice the way Robert lit up at the thought of them sharing a bed again, sleeping together in every sense of the word.

“Do you want me to carry you?” 

Aaron rolled his eyes.

“Wouldn’t make it past the first three steps old man.”

For a minute Robert looked like he would test that theory, but instead he just smacked Aaron’s bottom, one for each cheek, smug at the sight of Aaron’s flaccid length filling to half-hardness.

“I guess you’re not that tired after all.”

Aaron let Robert lead the way up the stairs, mostly to get a good view of Robert’s perfect arse, but before they reached the top, Robert turned around again.

“You’ll remember what I said, won’t you?”

Aaron looked at the scars again, spit-shined, tender to the touch. They looked different, but somehow, exactly the same.

“I’ll try.”


End file.
